It's Sunday. The mailman delivered a package (today!). And I found my black paint and it wasn't clogged up.
It's a good morning when it begins with coffee, wool, a book, and a kid nearby to hear a passage read aloud.
From the passage: "You can only make one person - you - the most wondrous, the most remarkable, the most open, the most beautiful, the most creative person in the world. Not to store it away, but to give it away because you can only give to others what you have. If I do anything for me, I do it for you."
(from Living, Loving, Learning by Buscaglia)
I'm pretty much a wreck lately. I'm trying not to be, and sometimes I'm not, and usually I don't look like I am...but I'm pretty much a wreck.
In 1995 he stole my heart. Then in 1997, she taught me that you don't split love in half when you have a second child - you double it. In 2000, he stole my heart by being the surprise baby only God knew we needed. And in 2003, she proved that love can quadruple.
Now, it's time for the big one, the 1995 kid, to head off to college nearly 200 miles from home and I'm all kinds of
wow, this is exciting
no, it's really not
it'll be fun! care packages!
I'll miss our random conversations
I'm so happy for him
he's God's kid, not mine
hang on, I have something in my eye
It's just that all I ever really wanted, since my Barbie Doll days, is this, this beautiful family and their beautiful childhood.
I really do want his childhood to end because I really do want him to chase his dreams; I really can't wait to see what he does with his super smart brain and super good looks and I really do want to meet my future daughter-in-law...
....but, darnitall, I'm going to miss my boy.
I already miss the 1995 baby, the 1998 toddler, the 2005 Kindergartner and the 2008 young teen. Now I'll miss the 2014 graduate.
Hang on, I have something in my eye...
p.s. Thank you, Rob Lowe, for letting me know I'm not alone
I finally captured them on film!
This is our 15-month-old puppy and 10-month-old kitten. Both were little rescue pets. I love how kind they are to each other.
Now, don't think all is peaceful and relaxing in our house...the pup does not get along with our adult male cat for some reason, so we break up plenty of squabbles. Maybe that's why I'm so delighted with these two.
I reach for beauty when something is painful in my life. Lately, I have been reaching often. Our children seem to sense this. For Mother's Day, our 18yo son presented me with India ink and a calligraphy pen. Oh, my my, that kid knows what I love: pen, ink, and paper.
I created my first writing in honor of him. ;)
Tonight as I was listening to the lyrics (and Bible verses), "Oh, my God, I will not fear. I place my trust in You," it occurred to me that...
sometimes it's okay to not speak the truth.
Cathedral in New Orleans, Lori Seaborg, 2014
"I'll make it through."
"I will not fear."
We aren't 100% sure those statements are true when we first utter them.
We utter them because we need them to be true.
"I will hold my ground."
"I will be brave."
"I am okay."
We utter the words over and over until we believe them.
photo by Lori Seaborg of our 15yo daughter
Sometimes you hush.
Sometimes you don't.
Maybe this seems odd to the modern first world, but in the missionary culture and church culture, we are encouraged to be silent. Forgiveness requires silence. And letting go.
But I read the Old Testament and believe the God of the King David is the God of me, so I don't believe silence is a prerequisite for forgiveness.
"Sometimes, sharing the burden of an upsetting truth, and revealing it, is a gift you give for someone else. You share the burden, so others will help, in a situation where telling them will change everything."
- my version
If you know of child abuse, and you do know of child abuse, you must share the burden, spread the word, add pressure, require changes, march into Senegal or Papua New Guinea or Nigeria with your feet or your words, and help those who are forced to be silent.
This is for the girls of Nigeria:
photo by Lori Seaborg of our 10yo daughter